


we're on fire now

by exoskeletons



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: (like season 5 not too far in the future), (suicide mention is extremely brief but i figure better safe than sorry), Angst, Future Fic, Jealousy, M/M, Suicide mention, don't worry it's happy though, rape mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-01
Updated: 2014-04-01
Packaged: 2018-01-17 18:41:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1398436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exoskeletons/pseuds/exoskeletons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mickey had been trying to put Ian Gallagher out of his head, resign himself to the fact that Ian was the best person on this stupid planet and Mickey had fucked up his chance and would now live a sad and boring life of weird hookups with closeted men, when one day Mandy came back from the Gallaghers, sat down next to Mickey at the kitchen table, and stared at him quietly.</p><p>"He's dating someone," she said, and stood up and walked away.</p><p>(set about a year in the future, so like season 5)</p>
            </blockquote>





	we're on fire now

**Author's Note:**

> yes the title is from happily by one direction don't judge bc it's The Perfect IanMickey Song
> 
> idk this is heavily influenced by "they would be as in love with you as i am" by cosetties because i loved that a lot and wanted to play with the idea
> 
> i don't own anything xoxo

Mickey is fine.

He's not sad or fucked up or on the brink of drinking himself to death, although Mandy clearly thinks he is because she's constantly popping into his room calling him an asshole and asking if he has weed, which means "hey, I'm here if you need a shoulder to cry on about your recent traumatic breakup" in Milkovich. She keeps asking why he doesn't leave the house, and Mickey doesn't get why Mandy doesn't get that he has no fucking reason to. He doesn't have a job anymore, now that he's given Svetlana his share in the brothel above the Alibi- "a true liberator," Kev had said with a stupid grin when he told him- which not only means he doesn't have to go into work, but also means he can't go drink there anymore unless he wants to see her with this dumb fucking clipboard she used to track appointments, talking to Veronica about breast feeding. 

(Some nights Mickey still wakes up in a cold sweat, after dreams about demonic children and blood dripping down Svetlana's legs and the kid sucking her fucking tits. He never wants to hear anybody talk about Svetlana or her baby ever again.)

When he points this out to Mandy, she rolls her eyes and says "go hang out with some friends or something, dumbass," like it's that easy. Like Mickey's ever been someone who has friends. Like he hasn't only had one best friend, really, in his entire life, and he can't exactly call up Ian Gallagher anymore.

That's the crux of it- Mandy wants him to get back with Ian and Mickey wants her to get back from Mars or wherever the fuck she is where that's even an option, let alone one he'd take.

"You're literally pining, doucheface," she tells him one night while they sit on their front porch. It's starting to get cool, and she's wearing an old sweater full of holes. "It's fucked up. You just gotta pick up the phone or take a train. It's not that fucking hard."

And Mickey just rolls his eyes and grabs her cigarette, taking a long drag because he knows that Ian wouldn't take him back, and he knows he deserves it.

They broke up on a Wednesday, almost four months ago, and every day that goes by Mickey feels the cement setting in, knows that it's too late to change it now. The wounds are scarring, healing. He can't go cut Ian open again.

Mandy knows everything, of course, because Mickey's life has no dignity and his sister has to be best friends with the guy who sticks his dick up his ass. So the day it happened, Mandy came storming through the door, slamming it open and screaming at him where he was sitting on the couch, "You left him?!?" 

"He fucking left me, bitch," he'd said, where he lay on the couch surrounded by empty bottles, hating his life. 

Mandy had just come on over to collapse right next to him, stealing his vodka and getting comfortable. "That's not what he told me."

(And yes, Mickey had said they should break up, but he had meant it as a hypothetical. Ian was supposed to get mad, Mickey would go storming out, and then later one of them would find the other for some make up sex.

Ian wasn't supposed to say _yeah, okay,_ and just walk out quietly, leaving Mickey all alone.)

Mickey just stared up at the ceiling, and eventually Mandy took pity on him and leaned onto his shoulder. "What happened?" she'd said softly, and Mickey knew she already knew but something the way she asked made him start talking.

"Just… couldn't do it. You know? Fuck," he said laughing, and took a swig from his bottle.

Mandy scrunched up her lips. "He said you were overwhelmed."

"Goddamn, you crosschecking us now? Jesus, Mandy." He gulped down some vodka and imagined the burn cleaning out his insides of everything Ian Gallagher had ever touched. Mandy got up, rolling her eyes, and Mickey realized he didn't want her to leave him alone so he let out "He needed more than me." She whirled around, her jaw set the way it was when she was angry.

"He needed you. And you needed him. And you two are both so fucking stupid." She stomped off, and Mickey just sat there the whole night and thought about how sad Ian had looked when Mickey'd said _maybe you should just go_ and he'd just. Left.

Four months of an angry Mandy and a mopey Mickey later, they were here, and Mickey was spending his days getting fucked up and watching porn, imagining all the actors with red hair, and cutting money running little drug things his dad had set up before he… passed away. (Mickey still wasn't sure what to call it when you shot your dad in the face, drove several miles with your little sister to dump him in a lake, and implied to his probation officer that he had been hugely depressed over an unrequited love for Frank Gallagher and may have been a suicide risk.)

Ian, meanwhile, had gotten his GED results back- he'd passed, of course, flying colors- had his meds stabilized, and was taking classes at Malcolm X, according to Mandy, who dropped these facts into conversation whenever possible. Mickey couldn't figure out if they were meant to be punishments or advertisements, but either way they were working. He had been trying to put Ian Gallagher out of his head, though, resign himself to the fact that Ian was the best person on this stupid planet and Mickey had fucked up his chance and would now live a sad and boring life of weird hookups with closeted men, when one day Mandy came back from the Gallaghers, sat down next to Mickey at the kitchen table, and stared at him quietly.

"He's dating someone," she said, and stood up and walked away.

Mickey let approximately five seconds go by sitting stock-still and shellshocked before he jumped up, shouting "Hey, Mandy!" 

His name was Adam. He was tall, she said; Ian wasn't used to being the short one. He sounded nice. The pictures he'd shown her were cute. "He's hotter than me?" Mickey said, and immediately regret it, knowing Mandy would laugh. She didn't laugh, just pulled him into a hug, which was about a million times worse. 

"He's in some class at Malcolm X, but he's planning to go to Northwestern next year," said Mandy, like she was reading out a list of the dead. "Want me to stop?" she asked, noticing Mickey stiffening. He shook his head. He needed to hear this. So she told him everything Ian had told her- they had only been on one date. The guy had picked him up in a car that was nice, but not so nice it felt showoffy. They'd gone to a restaurant with real tablecloths and walked around after, talking. They'd held hands and kissed and he'd texted the next day, right on time.

"Fuck," Mickey said. By this time, he was lying down on Mandy's bed, while she wiped her makeup off and put her hair into a braid.

"I know." She climbed into bed next to him, leaning a head onto his shoulder. "It's gonna be okay," she said, sounding way younger than 18, somehow, and Mickey swallowed a sob.

A week or so later, it's Thanksgiving, and Mandy and Mickey spend an amusing morning in the kitchen trying to figure out if the Spam they'd found in their basement from 1973 was still edible and somehow burning cranberries ("How the fuck can you burn fruit?" asks Mickey, and Mandy flips him off). Around three, she gets a text from someone and smiles. "Hey Mick, I got us a Thanksgiving date," she says, and before he figures out what's going on they're in the car, on their way to the Gallaghers'. 

"Who the fuck even texted you?" he asks, unbuckling his seatbelt. 

"Debbie. Lip brought _waaaay_ more turkey from school than expected and Fiona said they could all bring friends." Friends. As in, tall hand-holding friends who want to go to Northwestern next fall and major in business and have a golden retriever. (Mickey had looked up Ian's new boyfriend on Facebook.)

When they walk in, Mandy is clearly at home, hugging Lip and Debbie, giving Fiona their weird, misshapen attempt at mashed potatoes with podliva that their mom used to make because it's literally the only thing that didn't burn and they both kind of like to have Ukrainian food on Thanksgiving. Mickey hangs back, not really sure who to talk to because Jesus, there are so many fucking people in this house- all the Gallaghers, of course, Fiona at the oven and Debbie playing with Liam and Lip drinking a beer in the kitchen. Carl is sitting on the couch next to a cute blonde girl and Mickey wonders if she's his girlfriend, kinda wants to make fun of Carl but figures he'll wait until later. Ian is nowhere to be found, and neither is Adam Reid, who lives on the North Side and has a sister named Emily and likes U2 on Facebook. Kev and V are at the table with two baby girls, one of whom is crying. The weird extra Gallagher chick, with the blonde hair, is talking with a loud, donkey like voice, and her kid is sitting there staring into space, and crazy Sheila is there with about 40 different plates of strange Thanksgiving food she describes as a "deconstructed Asian-fusion turkey delight." It's about as far from Mickey's quiet house as you can get.

"Mickey!" shouts Kev from across the room. "Miss you at the bar, buddy," he keeps going as Mickey walks towards him. "Your ex is batshit, man. A genius, but batshit. Has my balls locked up. We're paying those girls, like, 40 bucks a handjob." Veronica smacks the back of Kevin's head. "Kev, really? Shut the fuck up," she says, and it's awkward and Mickey's thinking about Svetlana and how they met and his fucking dad and breathing a little quicker than he should be and then Ian walks through the door.

"Hey, guys," he shouts. "I brought-" And then their eyes meet and Ian just stops talking in the middle of the sentence. 

"Oh, _thaaaat's_ the brother with the fucked up gay romance," says Carl's fucking girlfriend into the suddenly silent room.

"Hey guys, who wants bread!" Fiona shouts, a little panicky, and Mickey is looking for an escape route when suddenly Ian is right there and he can't breathe because all he sees are his eyes and for some reason that means he can't walk away or look away or talk or even breathe, just stare into Ian's eyes and look like the dumbass he is.

"What are you doing here?" Ian asks sharply, and it pierces Mickey's little loved up bubble and he can move again.

"Got invited, asshole."

Ian looks away like Mickey's a fucking nuisance, just something he got scuffed onto his shoe, and okay, Mickey's pissed. Pissed that Gallagher's forgotten they come from the same kind of trash, that he's decided to level up and get on some hot piece of North Side ass and now he thinks he's, what- better than Mickey? "Just don't make a scene," says Ian, and Mickey wants to rip his red hair off his skull and break his nose and kiss him long and slow until their lips bruise and he's seeing stars. 

"'Don't make a scene'? Gallagher, I've seen some shit, but I never thought I'd see you become some North Side pansy," says Mickey, and Ian is about to respond when in comes a tall guy in a button down carrying flowers and he shuts up real fast.

"This is Adam!" shouts Ian, crossing the room and grabbing his arm. Adam looks a little shocked, and Mickey's guessing this is his first South Side Thanksgiving. But then Ian smiles at him, and he smiles back and looks at ease the way Mickey used to be at ease when Ian smiled at him, and he realizes that no matter how much of a douche this guy is he's won and there's nothing Mickey can do about it, because he's got Ian smiling at him that way and Mickey doesn't.

Adam gives the flowers to Fiona, who puts them into a cracked glass vase she digs out from the very back of a cabinet. He makes Debbie laugh and his first conversation with Carl doesn't involve a near-fistfight, which is already better than Mickey. He shakes Kev's hand and looks somewhat terrified, and even Lip seems to like him- they talk about some shitty band that college kids listen to. V kisses him on the cheek and calls him honey. He holds one of the babies and she doesn't cry the whole time.

Mickey gets wasted and doesn't talk much to anyone. Debbie looks like she feels sorry for him, and Carl asks him a million questions about brass knuckles and juvie that make Ian's new boyfriend raise his eyebrows and make Mickey feel hot and embarrassed. He tries to hold one of the girls, but she starts crying and won't stop and V rolls her eyes and takes her back. He wonders if she thinks he's a deadbeat dad now that she's all buddy-buddy with Svetlana. (Is he a deadbeat dad? He gets another beer.) He fades back into the corner of the table, in between Mandy (who's flirting with Lip, carrying on the tradition of their weird, creepy, on-and-off-and-on-and-off thing. He's almost certain they'll fuck before the night is over) and Kev (who spends the whole meal talking to Veronica about how one baby won't eat and the other won't stop eating and is that normal? Is it too soon to be off breast milk? Is there any other way we can remind Mickey Milkovich of the worst day of his life?)

Towards the end of the night, Mickey is sitting on the Gallagher's couch next to Crazy Sheila. He can't for the life of him figure out how they started talking, but she compliments his knuckle tats and says she might know where Mickey can get some work, says these construction guys renovating her hair salon just fired one of their workers for meth and are in the neighborhood for someone new. Terry comes up, and she's sad to hear he's dead- "don't be," says Mickey, and Sheila nods seriously like she understands. Ian and Adam are washing dishes in the kitchen and Mickey can't stop watching them as they look over at each other, grinning when they catch each others' eye. Adam whispers something in Ian's ear and Ian laughs, low, and kisses Adam on the lips lightly. It's casual and easy and both of them are back to washing dishes right after, like nothing big just happened. And it probably wasn't anything big. They probably kiss all the time- kisses goodbye, kisses hello, kisses when one of them says something funny, kisses kisses kisses. It's good. He's happy for Ian, that he has someone now who can kiss him without feeling like maybe he's drowning and maybe he's flying and his whole body is being electrocuted. Ian deserves someone who can love him whenever he wants, and Mickey was just annoying emotional dead weight. God, Ian probably fucking laughs at him now, too- _I had this one boyfriend, total nutcase. Everything was such a fucking big deal with him- like, we didn't kiss until we'd been together for two years, he couldn't hold hands or smile without having a fucking therapy session about his daddy issues and his inferiority complex. I mean, get a grip, man_. Part of Mickey knows Ian would never say that shit, knows it's really him talking, but he wants to believe it's something Ian would do because it's easier to hate him than it is to miss him. Mickey's face feels hot and he excuses himself to splash some water on it in the Gallagher's tiny bathroom. 

When he walks out, Ian is alone in the kitchen. "Where's the missus?" he asks, sounding like an asshole and liking it.

Ian rolls his eyes. "Getting his car. We're going home." _We._

 _"_ You shacked up already?"

"Jealous? Really? Jesus, Mick," says Ian, drying a dish.

Mickey gets up in Ian's face, so close he can hear him breathing, and used to be they only got this close to fuck but now he thinks they're about to fight and has there ever been a difference with them? Mickey thinks of a tire iron and Ian's stupid sophomore year haircut as he whispers "Fuck you."

"You wish," Ian says back, and they're off.

Ian presses Mickey up against the wall, but Mickey headbutts him and they end upon the floor, punching each other and rolling over and Mickey thinks his lip is bleeding and his head aches already but Ian's on top of him, and below him, and on top again, and they're touching, and it's almost as good as if they were having sex anyway. Kev and Lip pull them apart, and Fiona's yelling, and Mandy grabs Mickey's wrist and tugs him out, apologizing. They pass by Adam, holding his car keys like an idiot. He looks at Mickey like an animal.

"Mickey, what the fuck?" says Mandy in the car. "Try to control your dumbass jealousy issues for one second?"

"The fucking cunt was disrespecting me," says Mickey, holding the sleeve of his nicest shirt up to his bleeding face.

Mandy bites her lip. She's feeling sorry for him, and it makes him feel shitty, because Mandy's his baby sister. He should be worrying about her, not the other way around. "Listen, Mick… You can get him back."

"You saw that asshole. He's like a fucking Ken doll," says Mickey, trying not to sound vulnerable and hating the way that he totally does.

Mandy looks like she's considering something. Then she opens her mouth and just says "Adam is a boyfriend, Mick. You're the love of his goddamn life." and Mickey feels like someone's kicked the wind out of him. 

"I don't know if I can do that, though," he says quietly, and she takes one hand off the steering wheel and squeezes his palm. They spend the rest of the ride in silence. There's nothing left to say.

They get home to their messy kitchen and clean together, washing dishes, and Mickey thinks about Ian smiling while drying some forks and wants to cry. Mandy asks if he wants to play video games or something, but he says no and she seems to understand. He retreats into his bedroom and just lies there, not sleeping, not even really thinking, just staring at the wall with a bag of frozen peas over his eye. After a few hours, he hears a hammering on the door. Mandy goes to get it, and immediately after she opens it someone's screaming. "Where the fuck is he, Mandy?!" and Mickey knows that voice. He sits up in bed, the peas falling into his lap. Ian comes slamming in, and Mickey wonders if everything will always come back to Ian Gallagher barging into his bedroom. 

"We going for round two, Gallagher?" he says with a smile on his lips, because he knows this. This is Ian and Mickey, Mickey and Ian, this is punching until you're kissing and kicking until you're fucking and realizing that they're basically the same, and he's still smiling as Ian throws a punch.

"Adam thinks we're fucking, Mickey," he says, as Mickey grabs Ian's shoulders and pushes him into the wall. "He freaked out."

"Yeah? Don't want your North Side boyfriend to find out about what trash you've stuck your dick into, huh?" says Mickey, and Ian kicks him in the shins and they keep going, and Mickey's happier than he's been in months, happy to have Ian in his arms and in his room and in his life.

They're shoving each other around, smashing a mirror and knocking some shit off Mickey's desk, and Ian slams him into a wall and then they're just kissing, just like that, Ian pushing just a little bit farther, and it doesn't feel any different. It's all biting, and clawing, Ian scratching down his back, Mickey pulling that bright red hair. He slips a hand up under Ian's shirt, feels his hard stomach and pinches his nipple so hard Ian whines, half in pain half in fucking ecstasy. He's pushed up so hard against the wall he thinks they might leave cracks, imagines the whole house tumbling down and crashing on top of them, imagines him and Ian destroying the universe because together, they had always been a grenade.

Then suddenly Ian's gone, and Mickey's mouth is bruised and his hair is rumpled and his lip is bleeding again and Ian's standing in the middle of the room looking stricken. "I- I can't- fuck- bye." He runs out of the room and Mickey's alone again and he feels emptier than before, feels like a used up piece of trash that just got tossed away for something better.

That night he imagines Ian going home to love that wasn't a grenade but a patch of wildflowers or a soft, sweet kiss and he sleeps alone in his room. He doesn't pick up anything they knocked over. 

Days go by. Mandy raises her eyebrows the morning after Ian leaves, but Mickey just shakes his head and she frowns. She asks if he wants to hear more about Adam and Ian, but he says no. He's done with that. He wants Ian to be happy. He wants Ian to be with someone better than him. He finds a job- a legit job- in construction, with Sheila's salon's methhead renovators, so he leaves the house more and Mandy's happy. He starts to feel better.

Then one night, a week after Thanksgiving, Ian Gallagher knocks on his door again.

Mickey answers the door; Mandy's not there. "Fuck do you want?" he asks. Ian's still got his shiner, a little bit; Mickey imagines it like a hickey. It shows where they've touched.

"I just… wanted to come say sorry," says Ian, not looking at him.

"Well, you've said sorry. Go home," says Mickey, and starts to close the door, but Ian stops him and asks to come in, and for whatever reason Mickey opens the door wide enough for fucking Gallagher to go make himself at home.

"Mick…"

"How's Adam?" asks Mickey, harshly. Ian looks hurt, looks like he's been slapped, and Mickey wants to hold him but that's not his job anymore.

"Adam's good."

"Yeah?" Mickey crosses the room, thinking maybe if he gets far enough away Ian's presence will hurt less. Ian stays near the closed door. His coat's still on.

"Yeah," says Ian. "He's really, really good. He's thinking about buying a new car. And he's got this cute dog… her name's-"

"Lily. I fucking know."

Ian smiles for the first time since walking in. "Did you stalk Adam on Facebook, Mick?" He says it in this dumb, singsong voice, with a shiteating grin, and Mickey is blown away for a second at how beautiful he is.

"Go shit yourself," he says, opening a beer, and Ian's walking closer to him, slowly, not meeting his eyes. Mickey imagines Ian and Adam, Ian and some old guy, Ian and a faceless person in bed together, kissing and hugging and holding hands. He stays back.

"He's gonna major in econ, he thinks. Maybe go to business school."

"Gallagher, why do you think I give a shit?"

Ian's looking into his eyes now, begging silently, and Mickey hates himself for it but he would still give Ian anything he wanted but he just doesn't know what he's asking for. He looks down again, staring at his bottle cap, turning it over and over in the palm of his hand.

"He holds my hand, Mick. He asked if I wanted to meet his parents. He's-" Ian's voice breaks. He's crying.

"He sounds fucking perfect," says Mickey, and he's horrified when he hears the quaver in his voice. Ian's so close now he can feel his breath on him, could probably count every freckle if he looked up.

"He's not," Ian whispers.

"Why the fuck not, Gallagher?" shouts Mickey, finally looking up, finally seeing Ian's eyes all full of tears and sparkling and fuck, he's gorgeous.

"He's not you," Ian says softly, and grabs Mickey's goddamn face and goes for it.

Mickey holds back for a second, not sure what to do, but then he realizes it's Ian's mouth on him, Ian's hands all cold on his cheeks, Ian's absurdly long fingers scratching at the nape of his neck and tangling in his hair. He stands up on tiptoe, trying to get close as possible, putting one hand on his face and feeling stubble, putting the other on his waist. Ian breaks away for a second, breathes out a "fuck" before slipping his hands down to the tops of Mickey's thighs and lifting him higher, his toes barely scraping the floor, and it's still not close enough, Mickey wonders if it'll ever be close enough, if he'll ever feel like he's had enough of Ian Gallagher, because he knows it's selfish but he just wants everything Ian has to offer.

Mickey holds tighter, and Ian whispers out his name- "Mickey, Mickey, Mickey," then just keeps going, breathing it out like air every time they break away for even a second, and Mickey feels Ian's tears and he chokes out "Ian- I'm sorry- I'm so-" until Ian leans back and looks him straight in the eyes.

"Okay."

He kisses him again and they crash together and Mickey feels like the whole world is burning, feels like the room is on fire and flooding at the same time, feels like his heart is gonna explode from beating so goddamn fast. Ian has his hands on Mickey's ass and waist and Mickey's arms are entangled around his neck and it's honestly just fucking perfect and he can't even tell if they've been kissing for ten seconds or hours or days. This fucking kid has ruined any sense he ever had.

Finally Ian pulls away and Mickey looks into his eyes, pupils blown wide, his mouth all pink and swollen, and he wants to cry. Ian grins. "Missed you."

"Fuck you," says Mickey, but he's smiling too and Ian's smiling back and everything feels sunnier and Ian's thumb is ruffling through the hair at the nape of Mickey's neck and maybe this doesn't have to be a grenade, maybe he can do wildflowers too. 

Ian says softly, "You're all I want, Mick. Not some rich ass North Sider with a fucking golden retriever." Mickey snorts and Ian kisses him on the head, then releases him and goes off into the kitchen, shouting about _is there any food in this godforsaken shithole_ and _tell Mandy to bring home some leftovers from the restaurant_ and Mickey just stands in the living room for a minute, looking at sunlight dappling the wood floor and watching the little dust particles float through the air. A siren goes off in the distance. He hears a car backfiring outside, and doesn't panic and think of guns and angry voices. He's here, in this house, in the cold December air, and Ian Gallagher is calling out to him about watching a movie, and wrapping a blanket around himself and sitting on the couch like a weird folded up giant and when Mickey goes and sits next to him, Ian wraps his arms around him and they fit together perfectly.

Mickey Milkovich is fine.


End file.
